


Sick and Full of Pride

by aintguiltyy



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Blood, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Codependency, Dark Richie Tozier, Disturbing Themes, Dom/sub, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Explicit Language, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Monologue, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Myra Kaspbrak, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Obsessive Behavior, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Self-Hatred, Spit As Lube, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29867457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintguiltyy/pseuds/aintguiltyy
Summary: At first, Eddie tried to swallow it down, just like he did with every word that wanted to burst from his mouth every time Richie got too close and smiled at him like Eddie was the only person in the whole world. But it was just so fucking hard to suppress every single thing he’s ever felt or wanted, so he let himself have this one. Because no one knew about it but him.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 73





	Sick and Full of Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Drive" by Halsey.
> 
> I'm v excited about this because I've been working on this fic for more than a month after carrying this idea in my twisted head since summer, and it's finally here!  
> This is a spin-off to bimmyshrug's [ "You Make Me Sick Inside"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23357797), and I highly recommend reading her fic before turning to this one, but this still makes sense as a standalone.
> 
> Anyway, here is my take on this delicious AU.  
> Please heed the warnings and let me know if I missed any!  
> All characters are of age when everything explicit happens.

Eddie didn’t mean for it to happen.

He thought he had it under control, these needless, shameful thoughts that poisoned the only good thing that has ever happened to him.

But it just gets so fucking  _ hard _ sometimes, being near Richie all the time, feeling surely just friendly touches of those hands on his skin, sleeping in the same bed with him with no space between their bodies...

Maybe that’s what has finally broken him. They’ve been sleeping in one bed during sleepovers for as long as Eddie can remember, even after his mom caught Richie in his bedroom and flipped out like Richie was trying to fucking murder him or something. Richie hasn’t been allowed into the house and Eddie’s personal space since then, but what Sonia doesn’t know won’t hurt her. She definitely has no idea that no one but her cares about the stupid fucking rule that no boys,  _ especially _ Richie, are allowed to hang out with Eddie one-on-one, not even talking about being let into his room and bed.

Every other day Richie still ends up climbing his window with practiced ease, flipping open the lock that has long stopped serving its purpose. They keep quiet, even when Sonia goes to sleep because Eddie doesn’t want to piss her off to the point of no return if she does catch them, especially not after she’s been in such a good mood, all because Eddie went on a few dates with her church friend’s  _ lovely _ daughter Myra.

That’s another thing that has pushed him to the edge. Has been scratching at his mind ever since he first heard her annoying, high-pitched voice, like she’s excited by every single thing he does and says to her. At first, Eddie thought he would go to the movies with her that one time just to make his mom finally back off, and back then he actually found her more or less tolerable. But as Myra got more comfortable and confident in her belief that Eddie actually had any feeling for her besides annoyance and disregard, being near her became less and less endurable. 

It’s like she’s glued herself to his side, thinking that if she doesn’t touch Eddie or get his attention every few seconds, she’ll die. And sometimes Eddie wished she would when Myra gets too cocky and starts saying  _ things _ about Richie.

_ Why do you hang out with him, sweetie? I really don’t think he’s at your level. _

_ Stop taking pity on this loser, Eddie. You should let him go before he drags you down with him.  _

_ He’s a pathetic freak with nothing coming for him. Why would anyone want to be associated with someone like him? _

And the one that has really stuck in Eddie’s head, igniting rage so blinding inside him that he barely held back the urge to squeeze Myra’s throat until her neck snapped in his hands, finally,  _ finally _ shutting her up.

_ He’ll get what’s coming to him, I just know it. All dirty, disgusting faggots like him do. _

The only reason Eddie still hasn’t gotten rid of her is because his mother has more or less laid off of him and even stopped checking Eddie’s room every ten minutes like she used to every day, especially after she found Richie in his bed that one time. Which is why he can sneak Richie in without Sonia noticing, and if that’s the price for being able to have Richie next to him without feeling scared or Myra’s noisy voice in his ear, checking if he isn’t standing too close to the  _ horrible degenerate fag  _ and too far from his  _ girlfriend _ , then Eddie’s willing to pay it. There’s just something about Richie, and his dumb jokes, and his whole being that manages to both put Eddie at ease and rile him up so hard steam almost comes out of his ears, so he picks his battles.

It’s been like that ever since they were kids, when Eddie saw him on the playground and felt an unexplainable urge to do something dumb just to catch Richie’s eye. He’d seen him around even before that, but never found the courage to come up and actually talk to Richie until the boy fell down and scratched his knee, and Eddie couldn’t stay away and ran up to him with shaking hands already looking for bandages in his fanny pack.

Richie’s owlish eyes followed his every movement, and Eddie had never seen the loudmouthed boy that always caused trouble on the playground and in the elementary school halls so quiet. And then, while patching up Richie’s bloodied knee, Eddie thought that maybe he came on too strong and scared Richie away with his panicked worry, but that wasn’t the case at all. Richie swiftly got back his bearings, smiling at him and making the first of all the jokes that were coming, and Eddie hasn’t known peace and quiet since.

It felt good, to have a friend that seemingly never got tired of his rambling, and constant banters and arguments, and endless warnings that other children found laughable. Richie was the first person who hadn't made fun of him for being himself and actually enjoyed his company, until the Losers came.

At first, Eddie had to pinch himself to prove that it wasn’t all a dream, that he somehow came across six people that brought light into his dim life. Being able to talk to someone who just  _ got _ him and didn’t mind any of his traits that other peers found annoying and even calling them his best friends felt so good Eddie wanted to cry sometimes just thinking about it.

It was different with Richie, though. Probably has always been. 

The Losers are his closest friends whom Eddie loves so much it makes his heart ache, but Richie’s always been closer. Dearer. More  _ important _ . Since the very day they met, Eddie’s known that Richie wasn’t just a best friend to him, despite countless attempts to convince himself otherwise, because you don’t feel about best friends like that. You don’t want to hold their hand all the time, and banter with them only to get their attention, and don’t get mad when someone else interrupts your  _ moments _ . And you especially don’t think about them when your other best friend asks if you’ve ever had a crush in a hushed voice during one of your sleepovers, and all you can think about is their crooked smile and scrawny knees.

Bill was his other closest friend with whom he spent most of the time, apart from Richie, but Eddie never thought about him like that. He always saw Bill as something more of an older brother, and not only because he considered the Losers his family. Bill was brave, and kind, and handsome, too, but Eddie’s never caught himself staring at Bill and thinking how soft his hair would feel on his fingertips or how much he’s changed, from an awkward, stuck-up kid to one of the heartbreakers of Derry High. He never looked at him the way he did at Richie.

Richie’s surely grown into his looks over the past years, his gangly limbs finally starting to look like they belong onto his body ever since he started helping Mike out at the farm, but Eddie’s always found him attractive. It’s hard to deny that after Eddie spent most of his teenage years staring at the way Richie’s dumb, toothy grin slowly turned into an amused smirk and drinking in the glint in those deep blue eyes every time they fell on him while they argued over everything and nothing.

That’s when those  _ thoughts _ began. At first, they were innocent, just wondering what it would feel like to get on his tiptoes and kiss Richie. If he would push Eddie away or hold him closer, pressing his tongue into his mouth like he’s seen in mommy’s soap operas. How annoying it was when Bill or Bev interrupted them when they were hanging out together, asking if the two of them wanted to go see a movie with the others. Eddie felt so guilty for these thoughts because they were also his friends and people he really, sincerely loved with all his heart and would die for, but it was so much different with Richie.

Then he found himself wanting to be near Richie all the time. It got so bad Eddie even switched classes just so he could spend more time in Richie’s company giggling in the back of the classroom and surprisingly not caring about receiving bad marks in deportment. Sonia cared, though, so she not only made him switch back, but also did everything she could to have Eddie spend as little time in one room with Richie as possible until the headmistress told her to stop crossing the line. The rage he felt towards his mother in that moment surprised Eddie just as much as how flustered he got when Richie used to press him down when they were fake fighting or grab his ankle when they were laying in the hammock, and how  _ nice _ it felt to have Richie’s hands on him.

He knew it was wrong; Sonia told him so every time she would catch him daydreaming about Richie or talking about what a great time he’d had after coming home from a sleepover at the Tozier’s. But Eddie couldn't do anything to stop it. Richie’s been his weak spot ever since that day on the playground when he could no longer bear not knowing what it felt like to have these pretty blue eyes on him, and yeah, Eddie was doomed from the start.

The only thing that’s made him feel better about this was that Richie never seemed to mind. Never shook his hand off when Eddie gripped his forearm too hard while watching a horror movie he definitely didn’t want to watch. Never told Eddie to shut up when he was going on at Richie about whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into and even smiled at Eddie like watching him bitch was his greatest pleasure. Never turned away when Eddie tucked himself into Richie’s side during sleepovers, mumbling about it being too cold just to excuse the need to feel Richie’s skin on his and his warm hands gently caressing his back. 

Even more, Richie gave just as good as he got, like he relished in having all of Eddie’s attention on himself almost just as hungrily as Eddie did. Sometimes it even felt like Richie went out of his way to piss him off and get Eddie to argue with him only to sit back and watch him with this amused glint in his eyes; Eddie would be lying if he said that he didn’t willingly rise to the bait every single time. 

He knew better than that, though.

Richie was just messing with him, like friends do. Like he sometimes did with Bev or Mike, but they never appreciated it or gave it back the way Eddie did. Richie was simply indulging him, like he knew how much Eddie needed this twisted closure and comfort, and that’s what makes it even more horrible when those innocent thoughts about kissing and hugging turned into a desperate desire for Richie to lick the air from his lungs and press him down, rip his clothes off and force himself into Eddie’s welcoming body, pressing so deep inside him Eddie forgets his own name.

At first, Eddie tried to swallow it down, just like he did with every word that wanted to burst from his mouth every time Richie got too close and smiled at him like Eddie was the only person in the whole world. But it was just so fucking hard to suppress every single thing he’s ever felt or wanted, so he let himself have this one. Because no one knew about it but him. Not Sonia, who was determined to do anything in her power and beyond to separate them. Not Henry, who seemed to be always watching them, making sure Eddie kept his promise after the little lesson he’s taught him when snapping Eddie’s arm in half.  _ If I see you holding hands with your faggy boyfriend one more time, I’ll make sure you don’t have anything to hold ever again in your fucking life, you little fairy. _

Not even Richie himself knew.

As far as everyone else was concerned, Eddie kept his distance, but only until the sun set behind the horizon and Richie climbed under his covers. Being away from him felt like torture, like there was this horrible throbbing gap in his chest in the shape of Richie’s bright grin, and Eddie barely got through the day if he didn’t see Richie for more than a few hours and didn’t hear his voice. So, it was only reasonable to make the best of these stolen moments that they shared, away from anyone else, in their own world where there were only the two of them and nothing else mattered.

Eddie knows he shouldn’t have started doing this. He knows it’s so, so immoral, and fucked up, and wrong. But it was impossible to resist when Richie was right  _ there _ , content and warm and welcoming next to him, so Eddie gave in. Surrendered to the wicked voice in his head that wouldn’t back off, whispering  _ there’s nothing wrong with it, Eddie. This is the only way you can have him. You don't want to miss out on this too, do you?  _

_ He wouldn’t mind if he knew.  _

_ He would understand. _

It just hurts so bad, not being able to touch Richie like he wants to, not being able to hold hands with him, and feel his fingers ruffling Eddie’s hair, and have him sneak somewhere no one has ever touched him, not even Myra, and Eddie finally found a way of making up for all the touches he’s lost because they can’t be fucking left  _ alone.  _ Because  _ grown boys shouldn’t be touching each other like that, sweetie. You know that’s dirty and wrong, don’t you? _ Fuck that. Fucking fuck that shit.

Richie clearly doesn’t care about that either, because sometimes, Eddie feels Richie’s hands wandering when he thinks Eddie’s sleeping. Nothing  _ too much _ , just gentle touches on the low of his back, and soft fingertips caressing his arm and sometimes belly. Eddie doesn’t say anything, because he figures that would make Richie stop. So, he keeps quiet and lets Richie do it, the same way he didn’t say anything when he first guessed that Richie's been climbing into his bedroom uninvited for months.

But Richie’s never crossed the line that’s been taunting them for years; never went too far, not even knowing that Eddie would let him. Would die to feel Richie’s hands slide lower than the strip of soft, vulnerable skin between his sleep shirt and shorts that is seemingly Richie’s favorite place to touch. 

One night after an especially tough day for both of them- Myra hadn’t left Eddie’s side for what felt like hours and he and Richie barely got to spend time with each other before she dragged Eddie off to a park because  _ oh I’ve missed you so much today, I just want to have you all to myself for a little bit, _ even though they went out for ice cream just the day before- Richie’s hand slid to the back of his thigh where Eddie threw his bent leg over Richie’s hips, their usual sleeping position after Eddie decided to try his chances one night when he was only pretending to be asleep and Richie not only didn’t push him off and roll away, but tugged him even closer, and started barely tracing over the hem of his shorts.

Eddie worried that his breathing noticeably picked up and Richie would see that he wasn't in fact asleep any second, but he was just so frustrated and tired and _ desperate _ that he couldn’t stop himself from arching his hips into Richie’s hand. 

It left his skin in a heartbeat, like Richie'd been burned, and he didn’t touch Eddie for the rest of the night, and they went on pretending like nothing happened the next morning. And that was the last straw. Eddie could no longer take it.

The next time Richie comes over, he climbs into Eddie’s room as usual, but after they talk in hushed voices for a bit and get under the covers, Richie lies down farther away than he usually does. He doesn’t tug Eddie into his arms, doesn’t even notice the incredulous and even hurt look Eddie gives him, and just lies on his back after taking off his glasses and wishing him good night. And that’s when Eddie decides if Richie isn’t going to touch him, then he will.

It’s always the same. He waits until Richie falls asleep, then waits some more just in case, and only then starts lightly caressing Richie’s hand with gentle fingertips, checking if he reacts to the ghostly touch.

If he shifts or lets out a noise, Eddie stops for a few more minutes until Richie lets out this little snort that always sneaks past his slightly parted lips when he’s about to go into a deep sleep state. Eddie’s learned all the signs, every little tell of Richie’s body, and it shouldn’t make him feel as alight as it does, because it is actually fucking alarming, but he’s long past the caring point. He just wants to get to the part that he's been dreaming about ever since their last sleepover. Especially after today’s lunch, when Myra didn’t let him sit at the table with the other Losers, and Eddie caught a glimpse of how Richie’s jaw tightened and how white his knuckles turned when he curled his fists, his dark gaze burning into Myra’s gleeful face; like he was thinking about getting up from his seat and forcefully tearing her away from Eddie while she trashed and screeched for Richie to keep his dirty hands away from her and her Eddie-bear. 

Eddie notices it sometimes, how Richie reacts to Myra when she’s around. How his expression hardens every time she opens her mouth, like he’s physically holding himself back from whatever he wants to actually do to her.

Eddie wishes he’d already fucking do something,  _ anything _ before something really bad happens.

But it’s not fair. What Eddie has to suffer through is not Richie’s fault nor his responsibility, and Eddie’s gotten himself into this mess. The only thing that’s stopping him from drowning in it is this. These shameful,  _ wrong _ touches, the thoughts that leave him breathless every time Eddie finds himself staring at Richie in class, the only place he can hang out with him peacefully without Myra forcing herself in between them, and thinks about what it’d be like, if Richie returned the touch.

But for now the only response he can get from Richie is him turning on his back when Eddie carefully lifts his head off the pillow and sits back on his heels, watching Richie with bated breath before proceeding.

His hands are already shaking when Eddie hikes Richie’s shirt up and reaches to his pants. Before Richie would go to sleep with his belt still on, but Eddie got him to at least take it off because  _ it can’t be comfortable, Rich, it’s restricting your blood flow. _

His worry for his friend’s comfort definitely wasn’t the reason why Eddie did it.

Carefully unbuttoning his pants, Eddie sneaks a peek at Richie’s peaceful face still deep in sleep before dragging down his fly, the sound of it coming undone sending a shiver down to his toes, and cautious nerves are still evident in his shaking fingers. No matter how many times he’s done it, Eddie still feels as nervous and scared as he did the first night, and he tries to get himself under control before he clumsily does something stupid and fucks up.

Luckily, practice makes perfect, and Eddie’s had plenty of practice over the past few months, so he succeeds in carefully unzipping Richie’s pants. He then stops for a moment and looks up at Richie to make sure he hasn’t stirred him, but the ache under his skin just gets worse when he takes in Richie’s untroubled expression, his full lips and high cheekbones standing out in the moonlight falling through the open curtains. 

Looking at him sometimes hurts just as bad as not being able to have him in the way Eddie so desperately needs, and he forces himself to look down and focus on the task at hand. 

With the fly down, Richie’s boxers peek out, and today it’s the black ones with red stripes, one of Eddie’s favorites; he had plenty of time and opportunities to see every pair Richie has, and even the ones with hearts all over like in cartoons couldn’t stop him from pulling them slightly down to expose Richie’s cock.

That’s what Eddie’s planning on doing right now, but he stops himself from being too eager. Usually, he first takes Richie’s soft cock out and strokes him to hardness, but right now something prevents him from doing so, and Eddie takes a deep, careful breath and starts tracing the dark hair leading down Richie’s navel to his groin. It tingles his fingertips, and Eddie’s lower lip trembles when he reaches Richie’s boxers before sliding even lower over the prominent line of Richie’s soft cock.

He has to bite his lip to prevent himself from moaning when it twitches just slightly under his touch, and Eddie fleetingly peeks at Richie’s still sleeping face before turning his buzzing attention back to what has ruined every wet dream he’s ever had. After a long minute of gentle caressing touches, he presses just a little bit harder, tracing his fingers over the head, and a shiver rips down his spine when he feels precome beginning to soak through Richie’s boxers. The heat of his cock can be felt through the material, and Eddie can barely wait to feel it in his hand, slick, and hot, and hard, and just thinking about it makes his heart beat faster.

As Richie’s cock hardens before his eyes, it begins to tent against his underwear, and Eddie finally hooks his fingers under the waistband to drag Richie’s boxers down with too much excitement. Luckily, Richie barely stirs, only turning his head to the side, but Eddie’s too enraptured by the sight of his cock to care about being cautious.

No matter how many times he’s seen it already, it still takes him off guard every time Eddie’s eyes greedily take in Richie’s cock. It’s long and thick, thick enough for Eddie’s fingers to barely touch when he slowly wraps them around the base, just holding them there and taking a shaky, calming breath. It doesn’t help; his breathing has already gone heavy, and Richie’s cock twitches in his hand when Eddie leans just a little bit closer, a wobbly huff of air ghosting over the head.

When Richie shows no signs of consciousness, Eddie grips his cock a little bit tighter and deliberately strokes it once, pulling back the foreskin and revealing the head glistening with precome. He whines pathetically at the back of his throat at the sight, but quickly tries to get his volume under control and starts a slow pace, relishing in the way Richie’s cock continues to fill out in his hand with each stroke. 

Eddie can hardly tear his eyes away from it, delirious from seeing the effect he’s having on Richie’s body right before him, but then he glances up to Richie’s face only to see a slight crease between his brows and the way his breathing has picked up, just a little. It’s barely noticeable, but it’s enough to almost make Eddie cry out, and his mind is too far away to stop him from throwing his leg over Richie’s thighs.

He manages not to actually come in contact with Richie’s body at the shift, apart from where Eddie’s fingers are still wrapped around his cock, and braces himself on his elbows and knees to prevent himself from sitting down and accidentally touching Richie more than it’s absolutely necessary. That way Eddie’s almost face to face with his cock, and his mouth fills with spit from where it’s inches away from the glistening head, and Eddie does something he’s been able to hold himself from doing all this time. Something he really,  _ really _ shouldn’t have done, but it’s been at the back of his mind for months, maybe even years, and Eddie just can’t bring himself to care right now.

_ I’ll just try, just have a single taste and that’s all, _ he tells himself when he leans in, but all these phony promises fade away as soon as the taste of Richie’s precome unfolds on his tongue. Eddie bites back a pathetic mewl and greedily licks at the head again, and it’s so much,  _ too _ much for him to handle, so Eddie does the only thing that he can think of right now and wraps his lips around the head of Richie’s cock and gently sucks on it, tonguing at the slit. 

All the times he’s imagined this don’t even come close to the way it feels to have Richie in his mouth like this, and Eddie feels something breaking down inside of him, the last remaining walls preventing him from losing his mind when Richie softly groans and shifts in his sleep, still clueless about what’s going on. The smell of him is just as overwhelming as the taste, and Eddie lets the cockhead now slick with his spit, a thought that makes him slightly hysterical, slip from his mouth and leans down, burying his nose in the hair at the base of Richie’s cock.

Eddie’s heart hammers against his ribs, and he inhales, gripping the sheets so tightly his fingers ache just to stop himself from grabbing Richie’s hips and pushing them into his face. The thought of Richie fucking up into his mouth is enough to bring back the sudden, overwhelming feeling of emptiness in his throat, and Eddie gently licks a stipe up along the vein on the side of Richie’s cock before slowly taking it back into his mouth. 

He’s never done this before, obviously, only daydreaming about it every time he caught a glimpse of Richie’s bulge in his underwear when they went swimming or when Richie used to jokingly grab himself at particularly disturbing sexual jokes until Beverly told him to cut it out. Eddie settles for kitten licks around the head and occasional gentle sucking, still conscientious enough not to let himself get carried away because he’s trying so hard to not wake Richie up and get what he wants at the same time, but it’s just so hard to focus, especially with that fuzzy feeling that’s started to take over his head. It feels strange to have something in his mouth like that, but the taste isn’t repulsive by any means and Eddie finds himself quickly becoming addicted to it. 

Richie’s fingers twitch where his hands are laying against the bed when Eddie takes him into his mouth a bit farther, and Eddie imagines what it would feel like, if these fingers grabbed his hair and pushed his head down, fucking Richie’s cock further down his throat. It’s a dangerous thought to have when he’s already so close to losing his remaining self-control, and Eddie pulls off and presses his face against Richie’s thigh, taking a deep breath to calm down. His own cock, which he barely paid attention to until now, pulses in his pajama shorts, begging for attention, but Eddie knows that he’ll come as soon as he touches himself, and he wants this to last a little bit longer. He’s already gotten this far and Richie still hasn’t woken up, still hasn’t opened his eyes and seen what Eddie’s been doing with his body and how greedily he’s taking his cock down his throat, almost gagging on it, and Eddie isn’t going to end this so soon.

He’s playing a dangerous game and he knows it, but the ache under his skin is making Eddie hazy with want, and he resumes his stroking and licks off the precome that has gathered on the tip of Richie’s cock, whining at the taste. A frantic thought bursts into his mind then of what it would feel like to have Richie come down his throat, holding Eddie’s head down by the hair and not letting him get away from it until the last drop, and a particularly loud groan falls from Richie’s slack mouth when Eddie accidentally grabs him a little tighter, greedily tonguing at the slit. The sound of it ignites Eddie’s skin, clouding his head, and he forcefully pulls himself off and rolls over on his back next to Richie, his hands frantically sliding under his pajamas.

It’s never come to this before. When Eddie first started doing this, he would run off to the bathroom and lock the door with shaking hands to finally find the release he couldn’t get anywhere but from himself. He would lock himself away with Richie still soundly sleeping in his bed and jerk off to shake that sticky, overwhelming feeling he gets every time he does this off his sweaty skin. Eddie always feels so disturbed and disgusted with himself afterward, sitting on the floor of his bathroom with his own come all over himself, but it’s the only option he has.

Even before that, when Eddie had first learned what it meant, to jerk off, and tried it, it felt… underwhelming. Imagining girls from his class or women from the magazines that Richie used to stack up in the clubhouse just to piss them all off just didn’t do it for him, and Eddie even stopped for a while before it finally hit him; that he doesn’t want to know what it feels like to push into a girl’s soft body, because he’d much rather Richie did that to him.

It terrified Eddie at first, but he just couldn’t resist the pull he felt every time he’d wake up from another wet dream about Richie kissing his neck, and leaving bruises all over his skin, and opening him up in a way that felt so good it just couldn’t be real. So, Eddie tried it himself, and he hasn’t gone back ever since he found out what it feels like to come with something inside him. 

It was just his fingers at first, trembling, awkward touches that missed far too many times for him to not give up, but Eddie didn’t, and when he finally did find his sweet spot and came all over himself without even touching his cock, he couldn’t get enough. It had been his ritual before he found the courage to try  _ this _ , with Richie, and every other day Eddie would come home and do his homework like nothing was wrong and wait for Sonia to go to sleep before getting under the covers and wetting his fingers with spit before frantically pushing them inside his body to satiate the craving that haunted him every time he caught Richie’s dark eyes staring at him while he thought Eddie wasn’t looking.

His fingers, markers, toothbrushes, even fucking combs, no matter what Eddie tried, it was never enough. Even mom’s  _ toys _ that he would never admit to even knowing about couldn’t quite make up for the feeling of Richie actually pushing into his body and painting his insides white like Eddie’s been thinking about while riding a dildo on the floor of his bathroom so desperately his thighs almost gave out.

It’s never been enough no matter how hard Eddie came, shaking with the aftershocks of the orgasm and clenching down on whatever he decided to stop on that night, and that’s what makes it even harder now when the only thing that could finally stitch it all together is just within an arm's reach. 

Frantically dragging down his pajamas and underwear, Eddie carelessly pushes them off the bed, and his eyes roll back when he finally presses his spit-slick fingers to his hole, just caressing the puckered skin for a moment before pressing in. He moans softly at the familiar feeling before biting his lip to keep quiet, and his thighs are trembling just slightly where they’re spread on the bed. And Eddie doesn’t know what makes it so much more intense right now- Richie’s closeness, the fact that he’s actually taken Richie’s cock into his mouth this time, or the fucked up  _ wrongness _ of all of this- but the haze in his head gets only worse when Eddie’s fingertips barely brush over his prostate, and he arches his back off the bed, barely holding back a cry.

His wrist aches where Eddie’s fucking his two fingers into his hole, and he hooks his free arm under one of his knees to bring it closer to his chest before speeding up the pace. His eyelids feel so heavy, and Eddie can barely see anything in the dark of the room except for Richie’s still body next to him, and where his cock glistening with Eddie’s spit is still hard against his stomach, and Eddie’s hole clenches desperately at the sight, begging to be filled.

He just wants it so badly, wants to roll over and line Richie’s cock up between his cheeks, feel it stretching him in the most delirious way, the thick girth buried so deep inside his body he feels it in his throat. Or even better, for Richie to flip him over and force him to his knees, face buried in the pillow with drool slipping past his slack lips, and fuck into him roughly like Eddie knows he would. Richie’s hardly been gentle with him ever since they were teenagers, always tugging on his arm too hard until Eddie cried out just to call him out for being overdramatic, or pinning him down when they were played wrestling, his harsh, strong hands leaving fingerprints on Eddie’s wrists or hips that Eddie later looked at in the mirror with glazed eyes, thinking about what it would feel like if Richie just held him down and had his way with him, grabbing at his hips and groaning into Eddie’s ear to just lie there and take it.

Thinking about it doesn’t ease the agonizing ache under his skin, and Eddie really needs to get himself under control if he doesn’t want to fuck this up. Better to have Richie like this, clueless, and open, and still, than lose their friendship because for the past months Eddie’s been fucking touching his best friend without him knowing in his fucking sleep.

He mewls at the thought, grinding back against his fingers, but the slide is getting dry and it’s starting to hurt, so Eddie brings them up to his panting mouth, almost losing his train of thought when he tastes Richie’s precome still covering them, and slicks his fingers up with spit before bringing his hand down between his legs.

It’s hard to keep his eyes open with the fuzzy pleasure sizzling under his skin, but Eddie can’t help but stare at Richie’s cock while he can, before he has to tuck it back into Richie’s underwear, button up his jeans and pretend it never happened. And it’s right fucking  _ there _ , it would be so easy to just reach over and touch it, guide it to his desperately clenching hole and finally satiate the frantic need that’s been scratching at his chest for years now, ever since he found out what it could feel like, to have Richie inside him like this. 

Eddie sobs into his hand, his pace going even more frantic, and he has to bite down on his fingers to stop himself from reaching down with the hand that’s not currently hammering into him and grab Richie’s slick cock, still so hard and red at the tip and glistening with Eddie’s spit.

“Fuck,” he whines when his fingers brush over his sweet spot again, his stiff cock leasing wet trails all over his stomach, feeling high off the pleasure. Eddie can’t help but add a third finger when he feels the telltale signs of an approaching orgasm under his buzzing skin, throwing his head back and mewling at the stretch, his mind slipping away from feeling what he so desperately wants right there and not being able to have it.

He’s never done this with Richie next to him, and that was probably the most horrible idea Eddie’s ever had, which is saying something considering how many ways of getting rid of Myra he’s come up with, because at some point the wet, sloppy sounds of Eddie fingering himself begin to grow louder and more obscene in the quiet of the room, and he’s partly afraid that this will be the thing Richie finally wakes up from, but he just can’t bring himself to slow down. His worries do come true, though, because in the next moment Richie shifts and groans quietly in his sleep, and the warm palm of his hand unconsciously covers Eddie’s hipbone, inches away from his leaking cock, and Eddie almost blacks out from how hard the orgasm rips through his trembling body, teeth sinking into his already swollen bottom lip so hard he tastes copper. 

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to come back from the high, but it feels liberating in a way no other orgasm felt before. There’s a pleasant buzz in his head, and Eddie feels so loose, and drained, and empty, but in a good way, despite his fingers still remaining inside him. His soft cock and stomach are covered in come, and Eddie groans softly, knowing that he has to get up and clean the mess he’s made before it dries up, but then he remembers that Richie is still lying next to him, very much asleep with no idea about what’s going on. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, hanging onto the last aftershocks of his orgasm before reality can come crashing down on him. 

He winces when he finally slips his fingers out, his hole clenching around nothing, and his thighs tremble just slightly when Eddie carefully gets onto his knees to slip off the bed. His heart is hammering in his chest when he gathers his discarded clothes from the floor and quietly sneaks off to the bathroom to clean himself up. 

Eddie always avoids looking in the mirror  _ after _ , too ashamed and disgusted with himself to even entertain the idea of how he might look, but his lip stings and it seems like the bleeding hasn’t stopped, so Eddie has no other choice but to turn to the mirror when the bathroom door closes behind him. 

Staring at him in the reflection is someone he doesn’t recognize at first, but with every passing second of taking in the dark, blown-out eyes, the shameless color on the cheeks, neck and chest, the red bitten lips slightly swollen with blood oozing out of a cut, Eddie begins to see something he’s been hiding inside of himself for so long it had no other choice but to crawl out of his crumbled chest under the dark of the night with no one around but Richie.

Oh God,  _ Richie _ . Eddie blinks, trying to get that dark, confusing look out of his eyes, and turns on the water to wet a towel and clean the come off his belly. His mind is pleasantly quiet, like it always is whenever Eddie finally lets himself free for just a few of these stolen moments before locking his demons up in the heaviest chains, and he wipes the come off with the towel before changing back into his pajamas and wetting another towel for Richie.

It may be the most degrading thing about all of this, getting rid of the evidence and tucking Richie’s half-hard cock back into his pants while desperately trying to ignore his own cock twitching in interest again at the familiar skin on skin contact. Eddie feels horrible every single time he does this, and not because of what he’s done, but because of what he hasn’t finished. It isn’t fair of him to use Richie like that and not give him anything in return, not allowing him to release and torturing him without his knowledge. The least Eddie can do is let Richie come, but Eddie doesn’t deserve that, and it’s far too dangerous. It doesn’t stop him from thinking about it, though.

Throwing the towels in the laundry basket, Eddie gets under the covers and curls onto his side, tucking his hands under the pillow and looking almost earnestly at Richie’s sleeping face. The crease between his brows is gone, but his expression is still somehow troubled, and Eddie wonders if he could ever figure it out. What would his reaction be if Richie ever found out what Eddie hasn’t been able to stop himself from doing for months now while he was thinking they were just seeking each other’s comfort in the safety of Eddie’s room, in the soft, warm familiarity of Eddie’s bed, away from everyone else who just wouldn’t get it. 

They would never, but it doesn’t matter, not at all, because it’s his and Richie’s secret, just as much as this is Eddie’s. And if it has to stay in secret not to crumble and fade away, then so be it.

At the break of dawn, Eddie hurriedly sees a barely awake Richie out, because soon Sonia will wake up and check on him, and Eddie has to get rid of any signs that anyone has been in his room but him. Richie grumbles all the way, like he always does, and seemingly doesn’t notice anything unusual, but Eddie avoids looking him in the eye and almost kicks Richie out of the window before locking it back with shaking hands and taking a deep, calming breath, only hoping that Richie hasn’t picked up on it.

Eddie got so familiar with lying and pretending that nothing is going on that he learned to control his emotions almost perfectly so that Richie wouldn’t notice anything, wouldn’t even suspect what Eddie’s been doing to him while he blissfully slept in his bed, not even talking about Eddie’s feelings about Richie that were long buried under layers and layers of shame, anguish and fear.

But this time Eddie went too far. Further than he’d ever gone, and he can only hope that Richie doesn’t figure it out, even though it was blatantly obvious that something was off by the way Eddie avoided his gaze and kicked him out without a spare word. 

He hopes that the poisonous feeling of regret will leave his trembling fingers by the time he gets to school, but life isn’t that kind; not that Eddie deserves it. All the Losers, except Mike, are already waiting for him when he gets there, talking about something next to Bev’s locker, and Eddie takes a shaky breath before coming up to them with what he hopes is a sincere smile, trying to ignore the flutter in his chest when he feels Richie’s eyes on him.

The Losers don’t know about their nightly meet-ups, and he and Richie always act like nothing is going on when they see each other at school the next morning, but Richie always looks at him with that glint in his eyes, like it’s a secret that’s only between them, intimate, warm and real, and Eddie always shyly lowers his gaze with a soft blush high on his cheeks, but this time it’s only making him nauseous.

It’s always been hard to act normal after, but Eddie somehow managed to put on a smile and carry on, only this time it feels so much harder, like the voice in his head hissing  _ look at him smiling at you, he doesn’t even suspect what you’ve done, you are fucking disgusting _ gets so much louder Eddie can’t hear anything but its venom.

Richie frowns when Eddie doesn’t meet his eyes and pretends to be deeply invested in Bill’s pleas for Stan to let him copy today’s Math homework, and he can’t not notice it now, but Eddie just can’t find it in himself to reassure Richie that everything is absolutely fine.

The sinking feeling in his chest only grows more suffocating when Eddie feels familiar fingers wrap around his arm, and he finally looks Richie in the eye right as Myra presses her glossy lips to his cheek. Eddie's fingers automatically lock with hers when Myra takes his hand, pressing herself to his side and greeting the Losers and Eddie himself excitedly, and the only thing Eddie can think about, still staring right into Richie’s eyes, is that Myra is holding the same hand that he first jerked Richie off and then fingered himself with last night. 

It sends a thrill under his skin, and Eddie can’t tell if it’s one of twisted pleasure or disgust, but Richie isn’t looking at him anymore, having shifted his eyes lower, and Eddie lowers his gaze too only to see that Richie’s eyes are burning through the place where Myra’s fingers are tightly wrapped around his forearm. Like he’s thinking about grabbing her wrists so hard her bones crunch and tearing her arms away from Eddie.

Richie must feel his eyes on his face because he finally tears his gaze away from Eddie’s arm and locks eyes with him again, but the trace of a warm, intimate smile, the reminder of the secret they share, is gone, replaced by the dark, hard look he always gets whenever Myra is around. And Eddie is staring right back at him while Myra talks about whatever with Ben, still vulnerable, slit and cut open, begging with his eyes  _ “Save me, Richie. Get rid of her, please.”  _

Something shifts in Richie’s eyes then, and as the bell rings and everyone starts to head to their classes, Myra tugs on Eddie’s arm, saying that she wants him to walk her to English, and just as he reluctantly turns around and follows her, he meets Richie’s eyes one last time before turning around the corner, and Eddie swears he sees a promise in the dark of the burning gaze. A fervent, binding promise of  _ “I will.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang with me on [ tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/aintguiltyy) ;)


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